


Scar Tissue

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Confession, Destiel - Freeform, Kissing, Love, M/M, Scars, human cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has become mortal and afraid of everything. Dean is in love and can hardly contain it. But Cas is hiding something from his friend and he needs to let him know what it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scar Tissue

Dean hated this, hated seeing the man beside him, not the angel but the man, hide things from him. Every touch he gave was rewarded with a flinch and terror in his friend's face. Every word confused him, made him stare at Dean as if he didn't know exactly what he meant. He found himself checking every word, every touch, every emotion that showed on his face. Cas was showing emotions now, plain and easy to see, but there were only two that Dean had the opportunity to see: fear and, very rarely, sorrow.  
Sorrow was hidden and confined, Cas hiding away in the bathroom or leaving the motel room at night to cry into the night. Dean didn't like it when he went out there alone, a new human, vulnerable for the first time, but there was nothing he could do to stop it and the mortal needed his space.   
Cas rarely slept, lying on his side and shivering in the bed beside Dean's. The hunter wanted to crawl into bed with him, wrap his arms around him and hold him tight. Now that he was human he wasn't as afraid of what he had been before. He wanted Cas, he wanted to hold him and comfort him and make him okay. He wanted to love him and be loved back. He did not do this though, for he doubted Cas felt the same way and he would be too terrified if Dean touched him.   
The overcoat and suit were gone and Cas dressed more casually. It was approaching summer though and Dean couldn't notice that the man always wore long sleeves and long pants, always covering up as much skin as he could. He'd tried to peak in on him while he took a shower or was crying in the bathroom, but Cas was good at hiding. There was something that Dean was not allowed to see.   
Sam was out on a hunt, all by himself, and when Dean wasn't busy taking care of Cas, he was researching other hunts for his brother to do. Dean didn't want him around, not while he was worrying about Cas. There was too much on his plate at the moment.   
After a few days Cas's emotions stopped being so overwhelming. There were still long moments of fear and Dean still couldn't touch him (he was starting to think he never could) and there were times when Cas had to race to the bathroom in order to cry without observation, but there were hour long periods where the man was cathartic and emotionless like he had been when he was an angel.   
It was times like this that Dean would walk with him. They were mostly silent, but sometimes Cas would reminisce, describe things from Heaven and how little things on Earth reminded him of it. His throat would close and he'd get choked up, but he wouldn't let himself cry, not in front of Dean, and it just made the hunter want to throw his arms around him, hold him close. He hated hearing about Heaven because of what it did to his friend, but the words were beautiful and he couldn't make Cas stop.  
On one of these walks there was the sound of crying. They were passing a park and it was quiet and secret, much like Cas's own tears. Dean was expecting Cas to hang his head and keep going, but instead his ears perked up and he searched out the sound. Within moments he had found the cause of it. There was a little girl, she couldn't have been older than four, and she was nursing a scraped knee. Her mom wasn't anywhere nearby.   
Cas soothed her and spoke softly to her and Dean watched from a short distance. He took a look at the scrape and told her that it wasn't very bad, it would heal up in a few days, and then he pulled her onto his shoulders. They looked around, the girl's added height helping them to locate her parents and he returned her to them.   
Seeing Cas with a child brought tears to Deans eyes. He had a soft spot for children and seeing Cas interacting with one, it was all Dean could do to not run over there and help out. He didn't though, he just observed, and found his body doing things that he had never expected. Cas would make a great father and seeing him like that was a major turn on to Dean, which made no sense. He swallowed his feelings though, just as he'd always done.  
The mother panicked of course, afraid of what a stranger could have done with her child. Dean rushed in for the rescue though and explained what had happened better than Cas ever could have. Once everything was clear she was glad and attempted to touch Cas's shoulder, but he jumped so bad that he turned away and was gone, almost off at a run. Dean apologized for him before running off to join him.   
They had gone maybe three blocks when Dean couldn't contain it anymore. There wasn't anyone around, it being a cold foggy morning, and he pushed Cas up against a tree, ignoring the fear encroaching on him. Cas wanted to get away, to not be touched, but Dean was so tired of not touching. He had to touch. His fingers were light was they touched Cas's jaw, the stubble prickling his fingers. He kept his mouth soft as they grazed the former angel's, who would have thrown his head back to get away from the contact if there hadn't been a tree there. He planted his lips down and kissed his friend lightly but thoroughly, his pink lips cracked under his and unmoving. Cas was terrified.   
When Dean pulled away he could see the damage he had caused and he was disgusted in himself. He had felt these things for so long, he should have continued to contain it. There was no way Cas would feel the same way. He looked like he would vanish, but he couldn't now that he was mortal, and there were tears in his eyes, one sliding down his cheek.   
He wiped it away, "What am I supposed to do with this?" his voice was quiet and broken but just as rough as ever.   
That wasn't the response Dean had expected, "Well, you can keep it, I guess. Or you can give it back. Or, if you didn't like it, you can forget I ever gave it."  
"I think I will keep it." There was something like a smile on Cas's face, but Dean wasn't sure, "I do not know why you gave it to me though."  
Dean smiled, the angel was just as naive as always, "Humans kiss when they like one another."  
"And you like me?"  
"A lot and for a long time."  
"You have bad taste."  
Dean was staring at him, mouth open, his eyes burning. That wasn't something that people who aren't interested say, that's not what people who are against advances of that nature say, that's either self deprecating humor or a sign of self hatred. Seeing how Cas had been acting lately, it was clear which one it was.   
He headed back to the motel, keeping his head down and hiding his feelings as best he could. He knew that Cas was behind him, following silently. He had to talk to him, had to help him, had to do something, but not in public.   
Once they were inside Dean locked to the door, kicked off his shoes, and climbed onto the bed, leaning against the headboard. He patted the mattress beside him and Cas joined him, sitting awkwardly with his back facing the hunter.   
"I have excellent taste, Cas." Dean explained to the back of his head, "You are perfect to me Cas, my perfect angel. Sure you've made mistakes, we all have, but to me you are the most interesting and flawless I've seen. God, I can't believe I'm saying this."  
"Then you must be blind." Cas was shaking now, trying to contain his tears. Dean was surprised that he was still there, wasn't in the bathroom.  
"My eyesight is fine." Dean leaned forward, getting as close to Cas as he could without touching him. His lips were right next to that perfect ear.   
"But I have grown so ugly." Cas trembled.  
"You have grown human and if you find humanity ugly than yes, but I don't see you as ugly."  
"My sins have begun to show."   
Dean pulled away. He was too close to his friend, getting far too warm. He had to stay away or he'd be kissing him all over again. As it was, Cas was barely containing his sobs.  
"My dad told me not to let them see you cry, only girls cry. He said that those who give up, those who show how they feel, are cowards. You have to keep it all bottled up, you have to keep it all inside. If you're a real man you'll show no sign of weakness." Dean remembered the speech clearly, even though he was only nine when he'd heard it. Cas was staring at him, not sure what he was getting at but he looked a bit pained, as if what Dean was saying was a personal attack. "My dad was wrong a lot. If you need to cry, I'm here for you, I won't judge."  
"You say that." The tears were rolling freely and his voice was cracking, but the sobs weren't racking his body, it was still controlled, "But you would judge. If you could see what I'm becoming."  
Dean took Cas's chin in his hand, turning him to look up at him. Cas still wanted to bolt, "Show me."  
Cas stood then and he really was going to bolt. He was heading to the door, fast but not so fast that Dean couldn't catch up. The man grabbed him and turned him around but Cas wouldn't look at him. He shrunk away, his head hanging. He looked like he was abused, like Dean was going to hit him and all Dean could do was hate himself for that. He didn't like Cas being afraid of him.   
"Please Cas." Dean leaned in, whispering in his ear, "It's not bad to need help. Let me help you."  
Cas looked up, his eyes wide and so blue when surrounded by expanded capillaries that they looked like blue and red were all that existed. His mouth was a straight line, tight, and he didn't want to say anything.   
"Show me why you're so sad." Dean's lips brushed against Cas's again and he softened to the touch this time, letting Dean kiss him. He still didn't kiss him back, but he didn't fight it. Dean wondered if he even knew how to kiss.   
Cas finally crossed that line, sobbing and clenching at Dean's clothing. He buried his face in the hunters shoulder, his tears staining his shirt and soaking through it. He was making horrible sounds, them wrenching through his body like the whimpers of a beaten dog. Dean patted his back and rubbed him and shushed him, comforted him as best he could before he was walking him blindly back to the bed, where he sat and let Cas cry onto him more comfortably. They were almost out of tissues, but Dean pulled one of them out and let Cas blow his nose in it. It was only temporary relief, his shirt being used much more to contain all of that snot. Dean didn't mind though, it reminded him a lot of when Sam was seven and he had made some friends at school and he was finally going to be normal but then they had to move. It hadn't been drilled into Sam that he wasn't supposed to cry yet.  
So Dean let him cry and when he was done he helped wash his face and tried not to kiss him. He wasn't letting this go though; Cas had to show him the damage. He didn't say anything though, just asked silently and Cas looked like he was going to cry all over again.   
Eventually though, he pulled off his long black t-shirt, now stained with tears and mucous. Dean had only seen Cas's chest once, when he had had to carve an angel banishing sigil on it, but it looked completely different now. All of his skin was covered in scars, some from gashes, some from stab wounds, but all were old and deep. He tried to hide the worst of them with his hands, looking so very small and so very vulnerable. His chest was the worst of it, but his arms were scarred up as well.   
Dean didn't say anything. He just walked a small circle around his friend, looking them over. There were tears in his eyes and blood in his mouth from biting his lip too hard, but he didn't let it show. He had promised that he wouldn't judge.  
And he wasn't and he wouldn't. The scars hurt him, but not because they were ugly, not because they were damage, but because they meant so much to Cas, hurt him so badly. When he reached out, hoping to grab the former angel's hand, he shied away, covering himself even more. Dean ignored it and took his hand anyway, pulling him gently until their chests were together.   
"What happened?" Dean's voice was soft, his stubble scraping against Cas's cheek.  
"Everything." The angel breathed, "Every wound I received as an angel, in this vessel, it is coming through. I am mortal, my life is showing on my skin."  
"Then I am glad I can see them." Dean buried his head in Cas's shoulder, his fingers running softly through his hair, "I can finally see your life. You are mortal, just like me, you can grow old. You can grow old with me if you like."  
"I would like that very much." Cas nodded.  
Dean hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected his throat to fill up with cotton or the nerves to explode in his gut or this need to rise up inside of him. Cas wanted to grow old with him. Cas wanted to be with him. Dean wasn't the only one who felt this way.   
He kissed Cas again and this time the angel was kissing him back, his lips hesitant and his eyes open, studying what Dean was doing. They never opened their mouths, just kept the kisses light, and Dean had never felt more right about kissing someone.   
"You're beautiful." Dean kissed a long and gnarled scar along his collarbone, pinching the skin.   
"You're absolutely perfect." He kissed the upper ridge of the angel banishing sigil.   
Cas was crying again, not believing Dean's words of worship. That was fine though. They had a whole human lifespan to get Cas to believe.


End file.
